They rolled me into a dimly lit room, as far as I can remember I was the only one in there, I was high on drugs and could make out one nurse rushing around. I’d just had the most surreal moment of my life. I lay there trying to think straight, the nurse brought me water to sip. I could see my husband sitting dumbstruck beside me.
We were in the high dependency unit, there had been complications, with me not the baby.
Erin was wheeled in not long after, Alex took charge of feeding duties, he had the pleasure of nearly all the ‘firsts’. I didn’t trust myself, the medication was strong and my arms felt like jelly. After her bottle I got my first proper cuddle, I made a hook with my arm, for months I had had nightmares about her small frame sliding out and falling on the floor, Alex tucked her up beside me and I looked down.
I inhaled deeply as I thought to myself rather smugly that she was *the* most beautiful baby in the world. I even remember feeling a little sorry for the other mothers who now couldn’t have the most beautiful baby in the world, what a shame for them. In that moment though I was so so proud, I couldn’t wait to show everyone what a great job we’d done!
Out of my drug filled haze and nearly four years on I realise that all new mummys think the same, but I’ll never forget that feeling of pure joy, luck, appreciation and pride.
This post has been entered into the Sleep is For The Weak Writing Workshop (prompt 2)